


special of the day

by cryptidkickflip



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, M/M, listen i've made lemon lavender cupcakes and they are out of this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 19:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19875064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidkickflip/pseuds/cryptidkickflip
Summary: every day, people ask keith what the special of the day is. it pisses him off to no end because he spends an hour painting the damn sign every morning, and they have the nerve to not even look at it?he doesn't really mind when a regular named shiro asks, though.





	special of the day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ribbitsplace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribbitsplace/gifts).



> BAH DAHHHH  
> this is actually my first coffee shop au for voltron, despite being a human coffee shop au...
> 
> THANKS, RIBBIT! :D

_** Special of the Day: Peach Scones ** _

Another day, another cup of coffee. Another line of customers out the door before the first class at the local college. Another daily special, another tray of baked goods, another day working part-time at the Marmora coffee shop to pay for his art degree.

Keith had already been up for hours, helping his mom and uncles, and he resented the hell out of it. He couldn’t help but let it show.

“So, what are the daily specials?” A woman asked, tapping on her phone. Keith rolled his eyes and leaned an elbow on the counter, his cheek on his hand, raising the other in an exasperated point.

The chalkboard behind the counter was painted daily by Keith with the daily special, and honestly, he felt like that day was something special.

He painted an entire peach tree across the two special boards, covering the whole board, and used a wet rag to write the specials in negative space in his best cursive.

The baked special of the day was peach scones, and Keith made damn good and sure that it wasn’t a secret. There were trays of cooling scones in the showcase.

This woman just wouldn’t get off her phone long enough to find out.

“Check the board,” He drawled. “You might learn somethin’.”

The woman looked up in outrage but swallowed her words when Keith’s uncle, Kolivan, stepped out from the back, carrying more peach scones.

He was an absolute _unit_ of a man and had the genetic grumpiness to boot, despite not actually being blood-related to Keith in any way, and the woman shut up immediately.

Keith grinned smugly as the woman ordered her non-fat, foam-free latte.

He finished her drink and sent her on her way when a man stepped up to the counter that Keith had never seen before.

He wore a white button-up shirt, a pair of black slacks, and held a black blazer over his arm. His tie was purple and black striped, and his grin was wicked.

Keith’s stomach dropped out and he gripped the counter in support.

Where did his _knees_ get to and why weren’t they doing their job?

“So, I was wondering… What are the specials?” Keith gaped and the man snickered.

“I—the board?” Keith replied, feeling his face flush with heat.

“I know. I’m joking. Some people can be pretty dense, right?” The man snorted.

“Right,” Keith agreed, wincing as he pried his hands off of the counter with a grin.

He was the hottest man Keith had ever locked eyes on in his entire life. And he was joking with Keith.

“Uh, what can I get you?” Keith stammered, realizing that he was at _work_ and he _had a job to do_.

“I’ll take a vanilla soy latte,” The man replied and Keith shook off his fog of attraction, allowing his customer service persona to slip back into place.

“Great. Can I get a name for that?” Keith asked, turning with the cup in hand and a pen at the ready.

“Takashi,” The man purred, leaning an elbow on the counter. “But you can call me Shiro.”

Keith smirked and wrote ‘Call Me Shiro’ on the cup. The laugh that he got when Shiro looked at his crooked handwriting was enough to captivate Keith. He was hooked and he didn’t even know why.

_**Special of the Day: Apple Hand Pies** _

‘Call Me Shiro’ came into the Marmora nearly every day after that, always during Keith’s shift in the morning, and always dressed to be the hottest guy at the office. Wherever that office was, anyway.

Shiro, in the spare few moments he had between asking for a soy latte and receiving the soy latte, asked questions about Keith. Where he went to school, what he was going for, what year he was. Keith asked a few questions back, but he wasn’t well-versed in the art of… well, being polite behind the counter.

Usually, he left the customers with a derisive snort and a shout of their name, no more interaction than strictly necessary.

With Shiro, he wanted to try and make conversation with him, but he just didn’t know where to start or end.

“So, Keith,” Shiro hummed as he stepped up to the counter that day. “What’s the special today?”

“If you’d kindly check the specials board, you know, the one I spent an hour painting today,” Keith drawled, waving at the board behind him. Today, he’d decided on a picnic theme. He’d painted a purple gingham print and over it, tiny ants and apples, with the words “Apple Hand Pies” in brown painted cursive. “You’d find that we have apple hand pies on special. Or, you could always just look in the case.”

“What if I wanted you to tell me, instead?” Shiro asked, peering up through his lashes at Keith. Keith grinned.

“Then I guess I’ll tell you,” Keith replied with a melodramatic sigh, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Apple hand pies, Shiro. Want one?”

“Two, today.” Shiro replied. “And a vanilla soy latte, and,” He drawled, looking down at his phone. “A caramel iced coffee.”

“Hungry _and_ thirsty today, big guy?” Keith chuckled, moving to warm the hand pies. Shiro went to answer, but someone came into the shop and he turned.

It was a beautiful woman, taller than Keith and almost as tall as Shiro. She was surrounded by a halo of curly white hair and wore a smart pale pink suit and carried a baby blue briefcase.

“Shiro, are you trying to pay for me?” She asked, grinning and sidling up to him. “Don’t let him talk you into anything,” Her eyes dipped down to Keith’s nametag. He’d only written the first letter of his name on it after a string of nametags that said anything _but_ his name, and he and his mother had come to a compromise that ‘K’ would have to do. “K. He’s a lawyer. He’ll talk you in circles.”

“Keith, this is Allura. Allura, this is Keith.” Shiro said, shaking his head at her. “And I’m still paying.”

Keith narrowed his eyes playfully at Shiro and took the debit card from his outstretched fingers.

“I’m taking his money, but I’ll have you know it’s not just because he said so. He got here first.” Keith replied, swiping the card and handing over the drinks. Shiro snickered at him and picked up both drinks, leaving Allura to take the hand pies.

“Thanks, Keith.” He called over his shoulder, leading Allura to the table he always claimed for an hour or so before work.

Keith watched them walk away, feeling something akin to jealousy stinging in his chest. Of _course_ a guy like that’d have a girlfriend, if not a wife.

He tried not to let it eat at him.

Over the next few weeks, Keith let the banter flow as easily as it had before. Shiro would always laugh, and he would always, always come back, but Keith cut back on the flirtation. He knew his affections weren’t top-notch. He’d never been much of a flirt. But the temptation was always there.

He’d been drawn to Shiro from the start. It was too bad he was just a little late.

_**Special of the Day: Lemon Lavender Cupcakes** _

Keith stood back from the chalkboard and wiped some of the chalkboard paint from his hands onto his pants. He’d painted sliced lemons with little sprigs of lavender flowers behind them, as well as the words “Lemon Lavender Cupcakes” in cursive, which he’d argue was getting better with every day.

He somehow managed to wake up every morning and come into the shop, even though he didn’t really want to.

Shiro had been missing for the past four days. Keith wanted to be upset, but really, on what grounds? So what. Shiro found a different place to get coffee.

It’s not like he was forced to come to this shop or anything.

Just because Keith was undeniably into him didn’t mean that Shiro owed him anything. He had a girlfriend and that was that.

He was just about to go to the back and wash up so he could finish opening the shop when there was a knock on the front door. The blinds were drawn and it was about an hour before the shop was due to open, so he almost ignored it.

Keith’s biggest pet peeve, beyond people in general, was people who thought they could just come into the shop whenever they wanted and demand an early cup of coffee.

“Keith?” Someone called from beyond the door. “You usually open, so I thought… Ugh,” That sounded like Shiro. The shadow in the rising sun on the blinds was built like a tank, so Keith vaulted over the counter and made for the door, but he paused as Shiro kept talking, seemingly to himself. “This is stupid. I should just… Yeah, I should go.”

Keith frowned and reached for the door.

He found Shiro, dressed to go to work and walking away.

“Hey, I heard you knocking,” Keith called after him.

Shiro turned so fast Keith thought he heard his neck pop.

“Keith! Oh, I’m… I was just…” When Shiro turned, Keith saw what he was carrying: a bouquet of purple flowers. “Hi.”

“Hi, Shiro,” Keith replied drily. “I think we already said that. Do you want to come in? I just have to ice these cupcakes,”

“Yeah. I can. Come inside, yeah.” Shiro stammered, following Keith back into the shop. Keith locked the door behind them and made his way back behind the counter. He watched as Shiro shuffled his feet in the spot he usually stood to order drinks and breakfast.

“What’s on your mind?” Keith finally asked, after a few beats of silence.

“I… Brought these. For you,” Shiro said at the same time. Keith felt his face turn beet red and watched in a mixture of awe and horror as Shiro’s did the same.

“For me?” Keith finally said, reaching out for the flowers. The stems were bent and creased where Shiro had been gripping them in a white-knuckled fist, but they were the most beautiful things Keith had ever seen in his life.

“Yeah. For you. They’re irises,” Shiro explained, still red in the face. “They remind me of your eyes,” He trailed off. “I was wondering… If you wanted to go out sometime?”

“With me?” Keith asked, eyes widening. “Really? What about Allura?”

“What about… Oh,” Shiro asked, looking with unfocused eyes just over Keith’s shoulder as it appeared that realization hit him. “ _Oh_. No, that’s… She’s my coworker, at the firm,” Shiro said, waving a hand. “I should have asked if _you_ were single,”

“I am,” Keith said, bringing the flowers to his face for a smell. They smelled lightly floral, nothing too overpowering. They were perfect. With a smile, he held up a finger and ducked into the back.

He filled one of the vases they kept for the centre of the tables with water and put the irises in the vase, bringing them out and setting them on the counter just next to the cash register.

Shiro gave the vase a shocked little smile before looking up at Keith.

“They’re pretty, and they sent the message loud and clear,” Keith said with a smirk. “Are you free for dinner tonight?”


End file.
